


After the Madness

by womanroaring



Series: How Otayuri might happen [3]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Aged-Up Yuri Plisetsky, Canon Compliant, First Kiss, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Nothing happens underage, Post-Canon, Victor and friends, Welcome to the Madness (Yuri!!! on Ice), phichit on ice, stoic Otabek, there's a lot of food, they all go to thailand
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-18
Updated: 2017-08-08
Packaged: 2018-11-02 04:32:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 7,966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10937061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/womanroaring/pseuds/womanroaring
Summary: The performance went perfectly and Yuri was still high on adrenaline when they made it back to the changing area.“That was so great!” Yuri said, throwing his arms around his friend, smiling that smile again, so different to the way he’d acted on the ice. “Thank you so much, Beka!”...When they pulled away from each other, it had been slowly. They had looked at each other for a moment, their faces inches away from each other.Step back, Otabek’s brain screamed.So he did.“That was fierce, Yura,” he said.Part of my "What could tip my boys over from friendship into something more" series.After seeing the wttm material, I really needed to get inside Otabek’s head, wonder how he would feel, rather than focusing on Yuri as much as I have been, in the two previous parts in this series.This is as canon-compliant as I could make it, based on the show and all the official art and extra material (like the official art of Otabek trying Katsudon for the first time, the calendar art and Yuri on Stage etc etc).





	1. The madness

**Author's Note:**

> After wttm was performed for the first time at the GPF gala, I imagine it became quite popular - the calendar art leads one to assume that it's performed during Victor and Friends, at the very least, so it occurred to me that Phichit's sponsors would want it performed during Phichit on Ice, too. 
> 
> I figured it would be quite hard for the boys to contain their feelings, expected to perform them so many times...

Sure, Otabek had only been his friend for three days. But they’d clicked immediately.

OK, maybe “immediately” wasn’t the term.

For Otabek, it had been coming on for five years. For Yuri, it had not been the moment he first saw Otabek in the lobby, when Otabek had refused to have dinner with JJ (and yet he'd still called the man an asshole). Nor had it been the moment Otabek had rescued him from his rabid fans.

It had been that moment in Park Guell, when Beka had laid it all out and then _asked_ to be his friend.

Either way, it had seemed completely natural to Yuri, to ask his new friend to play a role in his exhibition skate. He helped him find the music _and_ he helped Yuri practice into the night, even though he must have been exhausted after the competition.

Yuri had been so desperate to break out and show his full potential, he’d been _itchy_ with it. He was a champion, but he wasn’t the embodiment of unconditional love and he wasn’t a ballerina, prima or otherwise – he’d proved that by falling in his free skate at the final. It hadn’t cost him his gold but it had cost him the total perfection that he’d been striving for. That he knew he could achieve.

He didn't want anyone to think of it. He was so looking forward to surprising the audience - before Yuuri and Victor had ruined everything with a surprise of their own. 

Then Otabek had agreed to save him. Again.

The performance went perfectly and Yuri was still high on adrenaline when they made it back to the changing area.

“That was so great!” Yuri said, throwing his arms around his friend, smiling his biggest smile, so different to the way he’d acted on the ice. “Thank you so much, Beka!”

It was the first time Yuri had used the nickname. Otabek had told him to feel free - it was what all his friends called him back home - but the sound of it on Yuri’s lips had caused Otabek’s heart to stutter. He had been about to speak, to say he was glad to help, to be a part of such an amazing performance - but instead he just found himself wrapping his arms around the boy pressed up against his chest, his own mind blank of anything but the way that he fit there.

When they pulled away from each other, it had been slowly. They had looked at each other for a moment, their faces inches away from each other.

 _Step back_ , Otabek’s brain screamed.

So he did.

“That was _fierce_ , Yura,” he said.

Yuri did his dazzling smile again, but this time it ended in one of his other smiles; one of his smirks.

“Let’s get out of here,” he said. “Yakov will come in here any minute to nag. Can we go for another ride on your bike?”

Otabek nodded.


	2. The wrong blond

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we have Victor and friends, and Otabek finally admitting his feelings to himself...

They texted, mostly, skyping on the occasions when texting became unwieldy. In the off season, Victor invited them both to do an ice show with him in Hasetsu (“Victor and friends” – Yuri had scoffed at the name), and Yuri had insisted that Otabek stay with them at the Katsuki family inn.

Yuri been so excited to watch Otabek eat the Yu-topian katsudon he had told him so much about, he had leaned up against him to see his reaction, like a cat.

It wasn’t lost on Otabek how often Yuri touched him. And how rarely Yuri touched anyone else.

He was proud of their friendship.

They’d performed a version of Welcome to the Madness at the ice show, modifying it now that they’d had a bit more time to work on it, and giving Otabek a larger role. He was on the ice the whole time, this time.

They skated well together.

 _Of course_ , he told himself after the show ended and he realised he’d miss skating with Yuri. _It’s that I was right; we’re alike. Kindred spirits. Nothing complicated._

It was almost a full two years after that, before Otabek actually let himself admit that it was complicated.

In his defence, he had been pretty busy. Lots to distract him from his love life.

Yuri grew over that time; it had made him more beautiful, somehow (he had lucrative contracts now with several luxury brands because of it, and Gucci had been only too keen to send him several pieces from their latest story, which featured tigers heavily. Yuri had lost his mind over it and bombarded social media with excited posts about it). But it also threw out his jumps. Yakov had encouraged him to strategically shift focus to his actual performance over the next two seasons. He rose to the challenge and did well enough to make it to the GPF both years.

He didn’t medal either year. And that was ok, Yuri even explicitly said so (though it’s not like he sounded pleased about it) - he knew it was temporary, while his body sorted itself out. He had known it was coming.

“Victor said he was the same, only _that_ idiot had let himself get injured,” Yuri scoffed. “I don’t plan on making his mistakes.”

“Especially with the man himself begging you not to?” Otabek asked gently.

Yuri made a noise with his tongue in response. Otabek had barely made it out via his crappy laptop speaker, since it was softer than the noise Yuri made when he was really irritated, but his friend knew what it meant. He knew how much the two Russian champions cared about each other.

“Well, anyway, I seem to have stopped growing,” Yuri said, after a moment.

Otabek nodded.

“It’s been strange,” Yuri added after a moment. “Being a little bit taller than you every time we meet.”

Otabek gave him a look. “I’m pretty short, Yura,” he said bluntly. “Which is normal for a Kazakh, but with your genes it would have been a worry. I would have had to look up who to report Yakov to, for maltreating you.”

Yuri had looked shy for a second, which took Otabek by surprise, but then he flicked his hair - it was getting pretty long, now - over his shoulder and said, “Well, I’m still not too much taller than you.”

“Hmm. Perhaps I should report him for starving you after all.”

“You’ve seen me eat.”

“And it’s not a sight I’ll forget any time soon. Who knew you could have such poise and grace when you perform and so little when sitting at table.”

They ended up trading dry barbs for a while after that, until they were too busy trying not to laugh like dorks (since it was hard to maintain a cool smirk that way) to keep going. Then it was time for Otabek to head to bed.

But he couldn’t sleep. Because why would Yuri have made it sound like the height difference between them mattered to him?

Otabek tried not to overthink it, like he tried not to overthink anything in his relationship with Yuri. But it kept on playing over in his head.

It reminded him of the occasional time when Yuri had mentioned that the age difference between them didn’t matter to him that much.

He always said it with this weird nonchalant coyness.

Much like the particular way Yuri had flicked his hair out of the way. He had only started doing this gesture, and Otabek wasn’t sure what it meant.

In the end, he grabbed his headphones and put on his latest playlist of chilling-out songs, hoping it would get him to sleep. But he ended up paying so much attention to the second song that he just got up and remixed it.

It wouldn’t be a good skating song. But it would be a good song to play to a room of people that were chilled out, before hyping them up again; or maybe at a bar on a summer afternoon, where everyone just wanted to sip their drinks somewhere cool on a hot day.

But that wasn’t why the song had inspired him so much.

He liked it because it _yearned_.

While pretending to be nonchalant and coy.

_And maybe Yuri liked him._

It was after 3am when he went back to bed. He was asleep as his head hit the pillow.

He woke up feeling wrecked. With the knowledge sitting like DNA in every cell of his body, that the idea of Yuri liking him was just fine, because he had quite a big crush on his best friend. He had possibly always had quite a big crush on his best friend.

He didn’t really know how to feel about that. Or what to do about it.

He got significantly drunk at a party the next night. This was something he rarely did, since the calories weren’t exactly in his nutrition plan and it would make his training sub-par for the next day at the very least; but it really felt like something he needed to do.

His friend Anton helped. He was always supportive when it came to such things, it was like a sixth sense: he could spot the sort of tension a mile off that would be relieved, however temporarily, by a night of debauchery.

They played drinking games, and danced, and drank some more, until they had to stop because standing up was a bit too much for them. They sat down for a while and Otabek tried to be non-specific about what was bothering him while also trying to explain that he just wasn’t used to not going after the things that he wanted, but that not everything was that easy, you know?

It was about that time that two very attractive young women sat down next to them to join in the discussion. Otabek was having trouble following what the blonde next to him was saying (her friend had already started making out with Anton) so he just nodded a lot. Until she put her hand on his thigh.

“Oh. _Oh._ I’m sorry,” he had said, doing his best not to slur the words as he removed her hand. “It’s just that you’re not … the right blond. The one I’m drinking over.”

Despite the slurring, she had caught on quite quickly. She ended up patting his hand sympathetically and nodding, like she understood.

Otabek didn’t even understand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I went with the fanon convention, that the series sort of implies, that Victor injured himself at least once in his late teens or early 20s.
> 
> I also went with the whole "Yuri is based on Yulia Lipnitskaya" thing, where her career stalled a lot after her initial early "I won everything at 15" run. Yuri isn't joking in that episode where he says that he only has a short window until his body changes...


	3. Phichit on Ice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phichit on Ice!

They met up a few weeks later in Bangkok. Phichit Chulanont had gotten funding for a simple, short-run ice show and he had invited a handful of top skaters that he knew from around the globe to perform. It was more of a trial than anything, to prove demand for something larger to the financial backers, but he was totally over the moon about it. Especially once it sold out.

Everyone would be performing a group routine together, nothing complicated (they’d all learnt it in a day) and then some solo routines - Phichit had told them to just pick some favourites. The backers had also specifically requested that Yuri and Otabek do Welcome to the Madness and Victor and Yuuri do Stay Close to Me, because both were so distinctive and had caused such a stir when first performed.

The show itself wasn’t what Otabek was worried about.

Otabek was worried because he still hadn’t decided exactly what to do about the new knowledge sitting in his bones.

He had hoped to already have a plan by now, but nothing had presented itself, since there were several problems with the situation he now found himself in, which he couldn’t formulate solutions for.

For starters, Otabek really had no idea how to tell someone that your feelings towards them had changed; that you now felt something profound and unique about them.

Secondly, Yuri might not feel the same way he did, and could not only reject him, but might end their friendship; a friendship that not only meant a great deal to Otabek, but would additionally be _horrible_ to have replaced with awkwardness or animosity. Yuri wasn’t just his friend, he was his fellow skater. The idea of them not cheering each other on or being able to openly enjoy each others’ performances or just plain old look forward to seeing each other those handful of times over the year they were together professionally - but rather hope _not_ to run into each other - was _horrible_.

The idea of he and Yuri not messaging each other at any hour of the day for any reason at all, was _horrible_.

And … Otabek knew Yuri. He knew that if Yuri didn’t reciprocate his feelings, the younger man would be embarrassed, and he would withdraw. He might even do that if he _did_ reciprocate them. It was very possible that Yuri’s hints and hair-flipping and random touching and that smile he gave Otabek that he barely gave to anyone else - it was very possible that these things weren’t even conscious flirting on his behalf. Maybe Yuri, just like Otabek until recently, didn’t understand his own feelings either.

So, despite it going against everything in his nature, Otabek decided to just sit on his hands. Because Otabek did not want to fuck this up.

He reminded himself of this while he waited for Yuri. Up until the point the young man himself appeared in the lobby, hood up, phone in hand, eyes scanning the room.

He looked tired and kind of pissed off.

He also looked strong and proud and ethereally, androgynously beautiful.

Especially when his face lit up when he saw Otabek. It hit Otabek like a punch to the stomach.

Yuri rushed over and threw himself into a bear hug that Otabek just managed to reciprocate before his brain overloaded and went blank.

He only realised he had closed his eyes as they drew away from each other. He opened them to see that a few strands of Yuri’s long hair had gotten caught in his stubble. He pulled to the side to help them get un-stuck and smoothed it back in place without thinking.

When he realised what he’d done, he pulled his hand back as nonchalantly as he could, trying not to think about the feel of Yuri’s hair between his fingers.

Yuri merely narrowed his eyes at him. “Scruffy,” he said, tilting his head to the side.

“Sorry,” Otabek said. “If I’d known you were playing Rapunzel at this show, I’d have shaved, but Disney on Ice was here _last_ week, wasn’t it?”

Yuri curled his lip at him but didn’t say anything, just flicked his hair out of the way.

“Did you know the drinking age in Thailand is 20?” he said, changing the subject completely. “But the smoking age is 18 and the age of consent is 15. So I could poison myself with carcinogens or have sex with a 50-year-old, but heaven forbid I have a drink or visit a nightclub.”

“It hasn’t been known to stop you from drinking or visiting nightclubs in the past,” Otabek said dryly. “Anyway, you do know that the drinking age in Kazahkstan is 21, right?”

“Yes, but I thought Bangkok was supposed to be _fun_ ,” Yuri says. “I’m 18 now, and we’re together, in a city with a big night scene, only I’m not allowed anywhere near it!”

“Yura,” he said. “Don’t worry about that. We’ll go somewhere where _both_ of us can _legally_ be and it will be amazing. Because we’re together.”

Yuri went slightly pink and looked at the floor, while Otabek wondered if he’d gone too far - he’d only used the wording Yuri himself had used - but then Yuri was clutching at his arm and dragging him out of the hotel, saying something about night markets and food stalls and maybe meeting up with Victor and Yuuri at some famous restaurant later.

Otabek smiled inwardly, because Yuri sure did spend a lot of time with those two (he was even staying in a second bedroom off the couple’s hotel suite) for someone who complained constantly that they were idiots. And, sure, by the time they caught up with them at the restaurant, the older men were slightly drunk and _were_ acting a bit like idiots, but in a fun way.

They ended up back at their suite, staring at a table covered in little boxes of … something shiny, in novelty shapes like miniature fruit and vegetables.

“Look Choop!” Victor explained in an excitable voice, waving his arm over them and then picking up one shaped like an eggplant and popping it into Yuuri’s mouth, which made Yuuri blush and giggle for some reason lost on Otabek. “Phichit said these are the best in the whole city,” Yuuri managed to say, around his mouthful.

Otabek picked one up (in the shape of a cob of corn) and blinked at it. “Are they… marzipan fruit, like they make in Italy?”

“Sort of, except they’re made from mung beans,” Yuuri said, picking out a heart-shaped one and holding it up to Victor’s mouth.

Yuri looked completely unconvinced, until Victor handed him a small box, which contained a cat-shaped candy of his very own. Yuri started photographing it immediately, demanding to know how “look choop” was spelt, for the hashtag.

Otabek ate his corncob.

It tasted nothing like Italian marzipan fruit.

But it was fine.

They all ended up watching an incomprehensible Thai game show on the hotel room’s flatscreen on the king-sized bed, sharing a box of sweets, until Otabek decided it really was time for him to go to bed. His own bed. He turned to tell Yuri so, before seeing that he had fallen asleep. He looked over; Yuuri was asleep too, on the other side of Victor.

Victor was looking down at both of them fondly.

“Don’t wake him, he can sleep here,” he said in a low voice, when he saw Otabek looking over.

Otabek felt kind of forlorn, going back to his room on his own.


	4. After Phichit on Ice

Phichit on Ice went off without a hitch, the audiences responding well and a lot of both traditional and social media activity. This last bit was every bit as important to Phichit as the former and nobody blamed him.

They’d stuck with Otabek’s expanded role in Welcome to the Madness. He and Yuri stalked each other on the ice, acting as cool as they could. The audience screamed every single time when Yuri took off his jacket, when Otabek helped him out of his gloves.

The glove thing had felt strange during warm-up. Play-acting a provocative yet oddly innocent version of something he now knew he wanted to happen in reality (i.e. have Yuri demand Otabek help him out of his clothing) just didn’t seem as … funny or OTT dramatic, as it had the first time he’d done it, when he was 18. So, Otabek decided to just go ahead and put all that genuine want into his performance.

While it got him through them, every single time he had to stop himself from cornering Yuri in the changing rooms afterwards. Thank God it was only four performances.

All the skaters went out to an entertainment district after the last show, to celebrate. Everyone but Yuri and Guang Hong had a few drinks with dinner; Otabek had said no at first but Yuri had just clicked his tongue and rolled his eyes at him impatiently, so he finally accepted just one.

Chris had picked a dance club for everyone to go to after dinner. Since Yuri and Guang Hong wouldn’t be able to get in, Phichit declared that he was taking them to a nearby arcade to play his “absolute favourite” dancing game and then “something where you shoot people”, for Yuri.

Otabek wanted to go with them, but Yuri was having none of it.

“Ugh, Beka,” Yuri had said impatiently. “You love clubs. You _love them_. So go to the fucking club and stop clucking over me like you’re my goddamned mother.”

He saw Leo and Guang Hong having a similar conversation, except that Guang Hong was smiling and talking gently rather than rolling his eyes and swearing. Guang Hong and Phichit then chased after Yuri, who had stomped off before Otabek could say another word.

So, Otabek went to the fucking club.

Three hours later he got a series of texts from Victor, who had claimed to be tired and had gone back to the hotel already with Yuuri.

_Is Yuri with you guys?_

_We’ve just gotten back to the room but Yuri isn’t here. Phichit says he dropped him back off at the hotel half an hour ago. He isn’t answering his phone._

_The ice rink is closed but Yuuri’s going there now anyway. I’m going to stay here in case he comes back._

Otabek looked around; Leo and Seung Gil were walking towards him, phones in hand. Chris was in the middle of a group of people dancing enthusiastically, but Otabek guessed that whenever he checked his phone, the Swiss man would have a similar message.

Leo was already checking hashtags and @s on social media, texting with Guang Hong to divide the SNSs between them and swap notes. Guang Hong was staying right where he was, at Phichit’s, in case Yuri turned up there; Phichit himself was going to run around to all the underage night spots he knew, and then the night markets, then anywhere else that struck him as likely, since he knew the city’s nightlife the best.

Seung Gil proposed that he, Chris and Leo stay at the club in case Yuri turned up, and Otabek go and look for him.

“It’s counter-intuitive, I know, since you’re the one he would be coming here for,” the Korean man was saying in that flat, calculating way of his, “but you’re also the most likely to know where he’d go, if not here. You should go to the spot Phichit dropped him off at, and think about where he’d go from there.”

Otabek nodded, relieved to be given a plan, orders. His own mind had gone blank with worry. He turned around to leave but then turned back, a thought occurring to him.

“Has anyone told the police?” He asked.

“Of course not, and we won’t, not unless you want to risk Yuri ending up in a Thai jail once they find him. Who knows what the little punk is doing and what trouble it could get him into.”

Otabek opened his mouth to protest and then closed it again. Seung Gil’s words were blunt, but they weren’t really unjust. Yuri was a hothead who was unpredictable when he didn’t get his own way and didn’t really care much for what rules he broke along the way.

The more Otabek thought about it, the colder his blood ran.

“All right,” he said. “I’m off, then.”

He didn’t so much run back to the hotel as sprint.


	5. Running around Bangkok

When Otabek got to the hotel, he spent a good minute staring around as he caught his breath.

He felt useless, and helpless, because nothing leapt out at him at all.

He needed to stop hoping for a message from someone at the club, saying that Yuri had snuck in, looking for him.

Yuri wasn’t 15 any more. For all Otabek knew, Yuri had merely spotted a cat and followed it down an alleyway.

And been attacked by an opportunistic mugger.

Otabek resisted the urge to Google how common or how violent muggings tended to be in Bangkok.

He failed to resist the urge to think about Yuri joking that he was allowed to have sex with a 50-year-old in this city.

There was a lot of sex to be had in this city, after all. Yuri wouldn’t have had to pick a 50-year-old.

Otabek stopped thinking about that. There weren’t actually any alleyways in view. Or any cats. Or any obvious opportunities for sex.

Possibly Yuri had just stomped off in one direction or the other instead of going inside. And was still walking.

Or… perhaps he had gone inside after all. It had been days, but Otabek hadn’t actually had a chance, yet, to use the facilities -- it was on his to-do list for tomorrow.

He messaged Victor.

_Did you check the rest of the hotel, for Yuri?_

_Yes, Yuuri checked the pool and both bars first, before he went to the rink._

Otabek rubbed at his face, his tiny hope snuffed. But… didn’t the hotel have spa treatment rooms? And a gym, and a restaurant? Wasn’t there some sort of rooftop viewing area? A stairwell, even. Plenty of other nooks and crannies where Yuri could sulk, if that’s what he was doing.

Otabek took the stairs, and went to the rooftop bar, next to the spa and the pool, first; they had all closed at 1am.

There was some sort of member’s lounge on the second-highest floor. They refused to let Otabek in but begrudgingly informed him (after he had explained that his friend was _missing_ ) that no one from the room number he had mentioned was inside.

He told them his friend could be very crafty. They replied that him their lounge was very exclusive.

Otabek believed them, but he also made a mental note to ask Victor to come up here later, if they still hadn’t found Yuri, just in case. Victor was good at flashing a smile and somehow getting his own way while the people around him felt grateful for being able to help him. He was charming, and handsome, and rich, and tall, and for the first time in his life, Otabek wished that he was better at any bit of that particular skill set.

He almost skipped the gym. Yuri hated hotel gyms, and had ranted on many occasions that they were nearly always just a depressing row of treadmills and exercise bikes on top of grey carpet, in front of a TV set to an infomercial channel, in a basement, frequented by lonely weirdos or exercise addicts. Yuri had also been hit on in more than one of them (not that Otabek blamed the poor souls who had tried their luck) and been so disgusted by the entire experience that he had sworn off them forever.

Otabek went in anyway.

And there, running quite fast on a treadmill, in front of a flatscreen TV set to a cooking show, was Yuri fucking Plisetsky.


	6. Found

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> :-*

Yuuri Katsuki and Victor Nikiforov were _idiots_.

Otabek shook himself. No, they weren’t. They weren’t idiots. Because what the hell was Yuri doing on a treadmill at almost 2am? Without telling anyone what he was doing? When he _despised hotel gyms_?

Otabek snapped the door closed and sank against it, pulling out his phone.

_I’ve found him, he’s fine. He was in the hotel gym._

Otabek looked up at the sound of the treadmill being turned off.

“Otabek?” Yuri asked, looking confused and grabbing up his towel to wipe his sweaty face.

Otabek strode over to him without a word and put his arms around him. Tight.

It took him a moment, but then Yuri hugged him back. In a mystified sort of way.

Otabek’s phone started chiming that he had new messages. It was probably replies from the rest of the group; he didn’t really care enough right this second, because Yuri was fine. He was right here, solid and safe and pressed against his chest.

“Otabek?” Yuri asked again. “What’s going on?”

Otabek pulled his head away from Yuri’s shoulder and leaned back just enough to be able to look into his face.

"Nobody knew where you were. You weren't answering your phone. Everyone's been turning Bangkok upside down, trying to find you."

Yuri pulled back. " _What?_ "

Otabek nodded, letting his arms fall back to his sides, pretending that they didn't feel empty now, while Yuri reached over to the bench to check his phone. "Oh," he said, holding it up to show Otabek. The locked screen was covered in notifications. "I had it on silent…"

"Victor and Yuuri went back to their room and you weren't there. Yuuri messaged Phichit to make sure you were still with them, but he said he'd dropped you off at the hotel ages ago."

Yuuri had the grace to look sheepish.

"I got Phichit to drop me off here after the arcade because he and Guang Hong wanted to go back to Phichit's and watch _The King and the Skater 2._ I fucking hate those stupid movies. But I didn't actually expect Victor and Yuuri to come back to the room so early and I felt - I felt restless so I just thought I'd burn off some energy. Maybe I should have texted. Or left a note," he added quietly.

Otabek broke into a small smile and nodded.

"I don't think I've ever seen you look so worried," Yuri said after a moment. "Or… worried at all, actually. Sorry."

Otabek snorted. "Well, you're safe and sound, anyway. Not in a Thai jail or doing anything that could get you landed in one."

Otabek's phone, which he had been ignoring, started actually ringing at that point.

"It's Victor," he said, and was much too used to Yuri to be phased when he grabbed it out of Otabek's hand and answered it with, "I'm here, I'm fine, we're coming back up to the room now, do _not_ come down here half-naked," and then hung up without waiting for an answer. He grabbed Otabek's hand, tugging him along and not letting it go until they got to the lift.

He then seemed to realise he still had Otabek's phone and handed it back. "Sorry," he said. "You should check all those messages. I can't believe everyone was looking for me," he added weakly, like he was still a bit shocked about it all.

Otabek flicked through them. "Christophe says he's going back to dancing then. Seung Gil says he's coming back to the hotel. Phichit sends a thumbs up and says he's found a bunch of great places for us to go next visit."

Yuri let out a surprised little huff of a laugh as they stepped into the lift and then pulled out his own phone again, looking thoughtful all of a sudden, before he started tapping away. The message appeared on Otabek's own screen a few seconds later, as they stepped onto their floor.

_I'm sorry for worrying everyone. Thank you for looking out for me. Heading to bed now. Sorry again._

Otabek glanced over at Yuri. He was blushing and looking very studiously at the carpet in front of them.

It occurred to Otabek that Yuri would have been incapable of sending a message like that two or three years earlier.

He pulled Yuri into another hug.

He was safe, and sound, and solid in his arms. Otabek could feel how hot his skin was through his damp shirt. He smelt like clean sweat and a sharp citrusy/mossy smell that Otabek figured was Yuri's deodorant or maybe his shampoo, or a combination of both.

Yuri pulled back a little and Otabek tried to stop thinking about those things, but his friend was looking down into his face from inches away and he now had to not think about how beautiful Yuri's eyes were this close up, how small his mouth looked when he wasn't pulling it into shapes.

He had, however, clearly looked at Yuri’s mouth for too long or done something else to give himself away, because after a few more moments of looking at him searchingly, Yuri closed the small gap between them and kissed him.

And since it was happening anyway, Otabek tightened his arms around Yuri and kissed him back for all he was worth.

Yuri pulled back again, just a little bit this time. "Is this ok?" He asked in a low voice against Otabek's mouth, but Otabek just kissed him again.

They only stopped because a minute or two later they heard footsteps running towards them. It was Yuuri Katsuki, looking pale and worried. He barrelled into Yuri, hugging him tightly, and for the first time Otabek had ever seen, Yuri didn't complain or try to fend him off. He did the same with Victor when the living legend opened the door to their suite, submitting quietly to the man reassuring himself that Yuri was really ok, before finally waving them all off and insisting that he needed to shower.

He looked at Otabek uncertainly at that point, and Otabek almost offered to wait, but given the hour, instead he went with, "text me when you want to meet up in the morning."

He went to leave but then Yuuri was hugging and thanking him and Victor was clapping him on the shoulder.

But he only had eyes for Yuri, who was waving him good night as he backed into the bathroom behind them all, a shy smile on his face.

He held onto the shape of that smile in his chest as he fell asleep.


	7. Talking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally; Yuri's POV.

Yuri woke up with a strange headache and an even stranger feeling in his stomach.

Oh, yeah.

He'd been out late.

And then he'd kissed his best friend.

He rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling for a while without really seeing it, a giddy, triumphant sort of smile spreading across his face.

He'd kissed Otabek Altin.

He should put that on his list of fucking accomplishments.

Skating prodigy, multiple gold medal winner, kisser of Otabek Altin.

The smile fell from his face, though, as he thought about how this morning, he'd have to actually _talk_ to Otabek about it, tell him that that kiss hadn't been some random impulse or whim. That it had meant a great deal to him.

He was equal parts excited and nervous about this.

He _was_ going to tell Otabek what he wanted. He just had to work out the words. This wasn't something he could just -- just yell angrily and expect to have understood. Even by his best friend.

And it had to be this morning. If he didn't say something this morning then it wouldn't be clear. And Yuri meant to be very clear.

Otabek was always clear.

So, even if he had to stutter it out, he was going to tell Otabek that he liked him. And that he wanted to be with him.

There just had to be a less embarrassing way to say it than that.

Yuri rolled onto his stomach and groaned, pulling his pillow over his head to try to protect himself from humiliation. He wasn't good at needing people. Or showing people he needed them.

He had been pretty sure for a while now that Otabek felt something for him. But Otabek had never done anything to share those feelings with him, and Yuri hadn't known what to make of that fact; it just didn't seem like him.

Beka was a man of action, calm and decisive, and yet this wasn't the first time he'd looked like he was going to kiss Yuri and then… hadn't.

Yuri hadn't been able to stand it any more. His feelings were at breaking point. They had been part of the reason he'd been running on a treadmill at half past one in the morning.

It wasn't that his evening up until that point hadn't been fun. It had been. But then they'd left the arcade and he'd started thinking about his friend, and feeling too young, and wondering how many people who _were_  old enough to get into a club in Bangkok might have tried their luck with Otabek tonight.

How perhaps Otabek wouldn't come back to the hotel at all that night, but would sleep in someone else's bed and Yuri wouldn't have even the tiniest right to be upset by this, no matter how close they were or how well they skated together or how Otabek's mouth felt around his fingers when he had stripped Yuri's gloves off again and again over the last few days. Because Otabek wasn't his.

And even though he'd kissed him now, the nervous feeling in his chest reminded him at this point that Otabek still wasn't his. And Yuri couldn't stop thinking that since he was the one who'd actually started the kissing the previous night, he couldn't let himself assume that just because Otabek kissed him back -- and then kissed him again -- that he would want the same immediate future Yuri wanted for them.

Perhaps Otabek had just been tipsy and tired and happy that Yuri wasn't dead in a ditch somewhere. Perhaps Otabek did like him back but wanted to focus on his career right now, or hadn't wanted to bother with a long-distance relationship.

Maybe they would have a mature, bittersweet conversation about it and agree to stay "just friends" by the end of it.

Awkward friends, whose unselfconscious intimacy would be ruined now.

Yuri made a noise of disgust at himself at that point and got out of bed. He needed to eat.

He considered his clothes, wanting to look as cool as possible when he saw Beka but recoiling from the idea of looking like he'd made a big effort, if his friend did indeed turn him down. He ended up just going with shorts and a t-shirt, given that it was going to be hot and humid the second he stepped out of the hotel suite, and put his hair up in a messy bun that looked casual but which he had actually spent ages getting just right.

His room opened to a sitting area, with the door to Victor and Yuuri's room on the other side. He wasn't sure if they were awake yet, so he walked over as quietly as he could and put his ear near the door, praying that he wouldn't hear sex noises.

He heard quiet talking and laughing instead, so he risked knocking on their door.

"Yurio!" Victor called out in a sing-song voice. "You can come in!"

The pair were still under the covers, but they sat up as he entered the room. Victor looked like he was probably naked, but Yuri was too used to it by this point in their relationship to even think about caring. Yuuri was thankfully wearing a soft-looking top, like he usually seemed to wear, to sleep.

"I want to meet Otabek. There aren't plans for breakfast, are there?"

"I don't think so," Yuuri said, putting on his glasses so he could see him. "We were going to order room service."

"I'll sort myself out then. See you later."

"Have fun," Victor said, and Yuri found himself wondering what he meant by that in a paranoid sort of way. He closed the door behind him with a little too much force and pulled out his phone to text Otabek.

_Searching for breakfast. Have you eaten yet?_

_No, I only just got up. Breakfast sounds good. Have anything in mind?_

_Phichit pointed out a crepe place last night, or there's this place that does these huge milkshakes covered in things like chocolate mousse and pretzels and brownies and shit, he keeps posting them on his SNS, have you seen them?_

_Sounds like off-season food. I'm in. Meet you in the lobby in five minutes?_

Yuri sent a thumbs up in response and headed for the lifts, flicking through his social media feeds on his phone. He ended up having to scroll back and forth a few times, however, because he found that he wasn't actually taking in anything he was looking at. Finally he gave it up as a bad job and put his phone away, staring at his nails and then his shoes while he waited for his friend.

When Otabek arrived, he didn't look self-conscious, or awkward, or anything. He just looked like he always did, which was to say composed, effortlessly cool, and very, very attractive.

Yuri noticed that his mouth felt dry.

Otabek kissed him on the cheek by way of greeting and Yuri's face both burned and broke into a shy smile.

"So where is this place?" Otabek asked, like he hadn't noticed either of the two things Yuri's face had done.

"It's about a 15 minute walk," Yuri said, proud of how steady his voice sounded, "or there's a bus that google maps says isn't actually any faster than walking."

"Let's walk then," Otabek said, and they headed off.

 _Say something, say something,_ Yuri brain said, before it started yelling wildly that he needed to ask Otabek to be his boyfriend _before_ they got to the café and he ordered the stupidest milkshake in the whole city.

But it was Otabek that spoke first.

"So," he said, making Yuri's heart lurch into his throat, "we should probably talk about last night."

Yuri nodded, a bit too quickly, his tongue apparently glued to the roof of his mouth.

"I liked the kissing part," Otabek continued, conversationally. "It's not something we usually do, though."

Something tense in Yuri relaxed at the light, teasing tone in his friend's voice and all of a sudden he felt ridiculous for worrying so much. This was Otabek, after all. Otabek was his best friend. Talking to him was always easy.

"No, it's not," he agreed, smirking. "Consider it a trial run. To see if you were boyfriend material."

"And?"

"Seemed ok to me. What did you think?"

"To be honest, I'm not sure."

Yuri stopped walking and gaped at him. Otabek's smile widened, and he continued with, "I'm afraid I'm very fond of having Yuri Plisetsky as my best friend. That's not something I'm willing to give up even if you become my boyfriend. Do you think you can do both?"

Yuri tilted his chin, his smirk back. He snatched up Otabek's hand and held it tight.

"I can do it, no problem."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I lied, there's one more chapter. Sorry to those of you who noticed.


	8. Au revoir

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaand we're done! Thanks to everyone for all the comments and kudos, this is probably the last in this series as well as the last chapter in this story. 
> 
> BRING ON THE MOVIE! BRING ON SEASON 2!

Yuri and Otabek found the cafe and ordered their ridiculous milkshakes. Yuri's was topped with chocolate mousse as well as pretzels and brownie crumbs and rainbow sprinkles (they'd asked if he wanted them and he'd nodded like he didn't care. He had actually cared a great deal).

Otabek's had arrived covered in -- well, they weren't really sure. He had attempted to order the healthiest-sounding one and that seemed to involve some sort of powdered freeze-dried fruit and a miniature chocolate-covered ice cream (he gave that to Yuri), as well as this amazing aerated cream, flavoured with berries. Either way, it was certainly not in his diet plan.

The drinks were very photogenic (and very postable on social media) on top of being absolutely fucking delicious, but they also made the boys feel slightly sick, given how healthily they normally ate. They found themselves grateful that they had waited before also trying to order actual breakfast food -- something they both declined to do, deciding instead that their "liquid" breakfast was enough for now.

The walk back to the hotel made them feel better. This was a good thing, since they then ended up making out for quite a long time in Otabek's room, after that; something that would have been much less enjoyable had they both still been feeling so completely stuffed with cream and sugar.

Their phones started pinging after a while, however. This turned out to be Phichit and Yuuri, trying to organise all the skaters to have one final meal together -- a Thai banquet -- before everyone flew home over the next day or so. If they had had a sensible breakfast rather than just sweetened dairy products, the pair might have considered blowing off the proposed lunch in favour of staying exactly where they were, but in the end, they decided that the respectable thing to do, both dietarily and socially, would be to join everyone else.

As it turned out, Yuri was very grateful they had decided to go, because the lunch was spectacular and he unashamedly stuffed his face. He hadn't eaten much Thai food before this trip, and today he tried sour, spicy soups and different fried things and several different curries including a duck one with fruit, which had been a delicious surprise.

He sighed in a satisfied sort of way after he finished and sat back. His stomach was full and Otabek was stroking his hand idly under the table. He looked around contentedly.

"Hey Phichit," he said. "Are you supposed to have that much glitter in your hair?"

"I got all this glitter in my hair last night looking for _you_ , Russian Yuri," Phichit said. "And it turns out that it does _not_ wash out easily. But I got some great selfies while I was out, look!"

Yuri leaned over to look at the shots; Phichit had even more glitter in his hair in them than he did now, as well as a smudge of what was possibly gold body paint across one of his cheekbones. He was laughing, crowded between two people that looked to be the source of all the glitter and body paint. "I kept saying that I was looking for a friend and people just kept saying that they bet I was. You wouldn't believe how many times I heard that joke!"

Yuri looked at the people in the photo again. They looked very… friendly. "Where exactly did you go looking for me?"

"Places that we are all going next time," Phichit said, with a wink.

Otabek had to leave right after lunch; he was the first skater flying out.

"It sucks that we have to go home now, separately, to different cities," Yuri said, into Otabek's shoulder, as they waited out the front of the hotel for his taxi to the airport.

"Come and visit me in Almaty, then," Otabek said, and Yuri found himself thinking that his friend-turned-boyfriend was a genius. "Surely Yakov will let you have a week. A weekend. Or I can come see you. I can help you study for your final exams," he added, but that's when Yuri laughed.

"Help me study _what_ , exactly?"

Otabek hummed at that and then kissed him, breaking off when they realised the taxi was pulling up.

Yuri stepped out of the way, flicking his hair out of his eyes. Otabek watched him do it, and then swooped in and kissed him one last time before helping the taxi driver get his bags in the car.

Yuri stomped back up to the room, getting ready to leave himself. He packed up and did his usual checks; nothing left in the drawers, nothing left under the bed, nothing left in the bathroom.

Victor took one look at his sullen face as he was wheeling his suitcase out of his room, and threw an avuncular arm around him, insisting that they spend their last two hours in Bangkok shopping.

It would be a lie to say that Yuri's new t-shirt, in tiger-stripe camouflage (a pattern he hadn't known existed ten minutes earlier but which was now the most important thing Thailand had ever created), made him any more cheerful. Nor did the carved wooden tiger amulets he bought. Or the weird sweet iced pudding things they got, to cool them down before they hopped in a taxi for the airport. But all three together were enough consolation that he was able to pull his phone out in the taxi to the airport and look at his calendar app and compare it with flights between Almaty and St Petersburg.

He sent Otabek a suggested itinerary for a weekend in May, in St Petersburg ( _"for you to help me 'study' :P"_ ) and a week in Almaty in June, after his final exams were over.

He got his reply, when he turned his phone back on, in their layover.

_Sounds perfect._

The second leg of their flight home was much more bearable after that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I imagined that the boys went to Patissez, a café in Bangkok that really does sell freakshakes. It's an offshoot of a business in Canberra (we Australians are one of the most obese nations in the world for a reason…). 
> 
> I also imagine that when they went shopping, Yuri decided these were too much for even him: http://www.ebay.com/itm/Boxer-Shorts-Muay-Thai-Boxing-Kick-XL-Fighting-Fabric-Tiger-Badge-Star-Black-/201650276394 (when you do a google image search for "Thai tiger clothing" they come up. Had to share.)


End file.
